


Tender Loving Care

by junko



Series: Senbonzakura's Song [46]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2834240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the way home from the Fourth Division, Byakuya contemplates the problem of 'TLC.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tender Loving Care

On his way back from the Fourth, Byakuya considered the issue of “TLC.” 

Heavy cloud cover had rolled in, promising snow. Despite the chill, vendors set up carts along the road. With the fading light, many switched on tiny paper lanterns of all colors designed to catch the eye of passing customers. Byakuya perused the usual line of food carts—roasted sweet potatoes, takoyaki, curried buns, noodle huts of all varieties, and several stewing pots of oden. 

But which of these would Renji prefer? Certainly, he ate anything put in front of him. Byakuya knew Renji had a weakness for red bean paste, particularly in the pancake, taiyaki, but did he have a favorite meal?

As Byakuya peered closely at the various offerings, the kenseikan caused a bit of a stir. Noticing it, hawkers stopped mid-solicitation, as if uncertain about the etiquette of shouting to someone so high-ranked. Some dropped to their knees in the street. 

Such reactions made browsing… difficult.

Just when Byakuya considered giving up and sending Eishirō out on this particular errand, an old woman wrapped in a heavy blanket against the chill boldly called out to him from an oden yakai, “You need some fresh, hot stew to warm you up, Captain-chan?”

Hot pot, yes. It would do quite nicely. 

#

With a large portion of ikamaki oden in a take-away container and a brand-new heavy comforter tucked under his arm, Byakuya crossed the quad to Renji’s quarters. He had it all planned: a blanket to tuck around Renji’s shoulders and warm soup for when he woke. Maybe, should the opportunity present itself, Byakuya could even stay to watch over… or even lie beside him. Renji always said he wanted ‘snuggles,’ after all. There was beauty in its simplicity and Byakuya felt quite proud that he’d come up with something so sure to please. 

As he approached, Byakuya noticed two men standing in front of Renji’s closed door, their heads together, discussing something earnestly. One was Lieutenant Hisagi, impossible not to recognize with those ridiculous facial tattoos. The other was a blond with a very… pointed hairstyle. Byakuya felt he should remember the hair, but it was the haunted eyes that caused him to instantly place Kira, the unfortunate former lieutenant of Gin Ichimaru.

What were these two doing here? Could news of the incident have spread to Renji’s friends? Or was this just some coincidence that they should happen to come by?

Seeing Byakuya’s approach, the two lieutenants snapped to attention. Hisagi did a very obvious double take of the comforter and soup, which Byakuya ignored. “Can I help you?”

It was Kira who spoke up, “Um, a former colleague of mine at the Fourth told me that Renji was… injured?”

Hisagi gave his friend a smack in the arm, “Actually, we heard it was PST.”

And they were gossiping about it outside of Renji’s door? Byakuya grit his teeth. “Have you woken him?”

“No, sir,” Kira said. Hisagi shook his head guiltily.

“See that you don’t,” Byakuya said, gesturing for them to step a distance from the closed door. As they followed, they watched him in a way that made it obvious that they were hoping for details of the incident. Byakuya would prefer to say nothing, but Isoroku had been shouting their business all through the infirmary. If—no, _when_ this went to tribunal…. Byakuya shuddered to think about all of his dirty laundry that would become public record. 

But.

There was no question Isoroku deserved to be punished for his transgressions. It still made Byakuya’s stomach sour to imagine what ‘playing around’ might entail, what Isoroku might have done to Renji. The mere thought of another man’s hand on Renji shot an ice-cold spike straight through Byakuya’s heart.

“You think Renji would want to drown his sorrows?” Hisagi asked quietly, with a glance back at the large sandals on the mat in front of Renji’s door. “I mean, would he be up for that kind of thing?”

“I’m afraid I have no idea,” Byakuya admitted. “Captain Unohana was only able to assure me that there were no injuries. I’m not even privy to the details of the incident as of yet.”

Kira’s lips were thin and concerned. Nodding at the blanket and soup, he said, “We should probably let the captain deliver his…things, Hisagi-san. Perhaps you could let us know if Re—Lieutenant Abarai feels up to going out tonight, sir?”

“Yeah,” Hisagi added with a hearty nod. “You tell him it happens to all of us sometimes. It’s nothing getting piss-eyed drunk won’t cure.”

Byakuya nodded. “I will.”

They bowed and took their leave. Byakuya watched them go, wondering if they’d be so quick to support Renji if they knew about the sexual nature of the triggering event. Men could be vicious about perceived weakness.

At least, the men in Byakuya’s life could. 

These were Renji’s friends. There was no reason to imagine they wouldn’t continue to stick by him, through thick and thin. Byakuya vowed to be sure and tell Renji of the invitation and to make sure Renji could feel free to take his friends up on their offer.

Before kicking his sandals off at the door, Byakuya summoned two butterflies. One he sent to Eishirō explaining that he was occupied at the Division until late this evening and he was not to be disturbed. Any inquiries from his family or Isoroku’s were to be directed to Captain Unohana of the Fourth Division. 

The second he sent across the quad, to the lieutenant’s headquarters, to be delivered to whomever was on duty there. Byakuya paused, unsure how to phrase what he wanted. He wanted to have some space, undisturbed, but asking for time alone together… he might as well admit to fraternization. 

He let out a steady breath. It was by far better to be ‘up front’ as Renji would say, than to have someone stumble in, well-intentioned, and discover them together, was it not? 

“As I’m sure you may have already heard through the rumor mill,” Byakuya said, “The lieutenant suffered a post traumatic… event. I’m caring for him in his quarters. We are not to be disturbed.”

It was nothing, but Byakuya felt his cheeks blazing as he sent the butterfly on its way.

#

Renji woke to the sensation of someone clutching his waist. It was a strong _‘I got you’_ kind of hug that radiated emotion. 

Opening his eyes, Renji pulled his nose from the stuffed animals. He was facing the wall, and whoever was spooned up behind him had covered them both in a brand-new thick comforter, the kind of blanket you’d throw over a kotatsu. It was a gorgeous, deep crimson color and Renji was very, very sure it didn’t belong to him. He’d remember purchasing something so… warm. 

Renji shifted trying to get a peek of who was with him, but there wasn’t enough room on his tiny cot to turn around without tossing whoever it was to the floor. 

The feel of the body pressed against him was too familiar to be anyone but Byakuya, but that didn’t make any sense did it? Byakuya wouldn’t just crawl into Renji’s bed, in the middle of the entire Division, where anyone could just waltz in, would he? Fuck, the door didn’t even have a lock.

But there against the wall in the spot he usually kept Zabimaru stood Senbonzakura. And was that a captain’s haori draped over his footlocker with the kenseikan just sitting there where anyone could steal it?

“Taicho, wake up,” Renji insisted. “You have to go.”

A soft sad sigh before the arm around his waist loosened its intense hold. “I was afraid I might have woken you finally. Are you hungry? I’ve brought soup as well.”

Renji frowned at the wall. Okay, the voice was definitely Byakuya, but… it must be a pod person, one of Urahara’s mod souls, maybe? “You can’t… I mean, what are you…? You’re in my quarters. Don’t you… shouldn’t you....” Renji gave up with a, “Gah! People could see.”

Byakuya chuckled as he carefully untangled himself to sit up. When he leaned over Renji’s shoulder, Renji could finally see Byakuya’s face. Without the kenseikan, his inky hair spilled in front of his face in that way that was so intimate and private in Renji’s mind because it instantly recalled sex. “I sent a butterfly,” Byakuya said. Gently, he gave Renji’s topknot a little playful tug. “No one will disturb us, Renji.”

Renji was beginning to wonder if he’d been hit on the head, because all he could do was stupidly repeat what Byakuya said, “You sent a butterfly? Like, an official memo?”

“Yes,” he said, much more seriously. “I suppose just like.”

“Yeah,” Renji nodded, pleased that Byakuya finally seemed to be twigging to the implications of all this, “Are you insane?”

Byakuya’s eyes met Renji’s. “Soon enough we will have no secrets,” he said, his deep voice like a stone dropped in a well. “Isoroku will see to that.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. Renji hadn’t really considered the full consequences of siccing the Fourth on Isoroku’s ass. Of course Isoroku would air all their dirty laundry, spill to everyone every gory detail of their relationship. Renji suddenly felt trapped between Byakuya and the wall, “Uh, listen, I only called the Fourth because I was afraid I’d killed him. I didn’t make no charges. I made no claims, no statements, nothing official-like. Unohana just swept in and… look, I can get them to drop it, tell them it was all just a—“

A finger on his lips stopped him. “It’s out of our hands, Renji. And, I think for the best.”

For the best?

The finality of Byakuya’s tone had Renji’s heart sinking. This was it, wasn’t it? The big break up. No wonder Byakuya was being so gentle, so sweet, so out in the open. It didn’t matter any more who saw them. This was going to be the last of it.

“Should’ve fucking killed him,” Renji muttered dejectedly, letting his face fall back into the hollow between the two stuffed animals.

When fingers brushed Renji’s sideburns, Renji stiffened unconsciously, freezing from the memory. Instantly, he shook himself out of it, but it was too late to apologize or explain; Byakuya pulled away sharply. 

Byakuya sat up, his eyes flicking over Renji as though trying to see injury, his hand up, curled close to his shoulder, as if hiding the offending limb. “Are there other things I should avoid…? Damn it, I should have thought,” he whispered. “Am I too close?”

“Ah, shit, no, you’re fine,” Renji snarled, wrapping himself around the stuffed animals and hooking Zabimaru into his arms. “It wasn’t even… The little fucker didn’t…” Why the fuck couldn’t Renji even finish a damn thought today? Squeezing his eyes shut, he just blurted out the whole thing: “It’s not what you’re thinking, okay? Isoroku groped me. That’s all. He had his hands on my chest and my face and I told him no but he said he’d make out that I forced him so I was kind of just letting him do whatever and then I don’t know what happened. It was the pink hair, I guess. My reiatsu spiked and he fainted. He didn’t even kiss me, all right? He was just up in my space. It was stupid. It was probably my fault. And now everything is going to be over because I panicked. I should’ve fucking killed him and buried him in the garden.” 

At some point, when he’d been talking Byakuya tucked himself back up against Renji’s back and held on. It was enough to make Renji want to cry, that little hug around his waist--because he could feel it, couldn’t he? The love, the protectiveness.

Zabimaru echoed it as well. Fuck, if Renji didn’t think he could hear Senbonzakura singing softly.

The whole room was like a soft hum of loving reiatsu… and it was breaking him down.

“Stop it, you guys,” Renji sniffed. “I’m fine.”

But, Byakuya didn’t let go. Instead he said, “No one blames you for anything, Renji. Isoroku is the fool. He’s the one who will suffer for it; I will see to that.”

Renji shook his head. “Yeah, but it’s like you said, it’s all over now, isn’t it? All because I didn’t just let him take what he wanted.”

“What? I never said anything of the sort,” Byakuya said, a spike of anger in his tone. “Nothing is ‘over.’”

Renji pulled his face from the toys. “But when the fraternization charges come out?”

Byakuya’s grip around his waist was solid and as stern as his voice. “We will weather them.” And, then, as if seeing the question in Renji’s eye, added, “ _Together_ , Renji.” 

Opening his mouth, Renji started to protest, but stopped himself. What the hell, was he really going to tell Byakuya that they shouldn’t fight this together?

Sitting up, Byakuya glared down at Renji. His gaze was fierce, but his voice was gentle. His fingers reached to touch Renji’s face, but he stopped himself. “It disturbs me to hear you think that there would have been any kind of solution in letting Isoroku ‘take what he wanted.’ Don’t fool yourself, Renji. Men like him…” Byakuya let out a breath, his expression softening. “It would not have stopped there. Once he knew he could have you he would have continued to use you. And when he was done with you, he would have thrown you to the wolves. I know you know it, or you wouldn’t be regretting the opportunity to have murdered him.”

Renji snorted a little dark laugh at that. “True enough.”

Byakuya’s hand hesitated again. Renji grabbed it and placed it on his face. Cupping it around his cheek, Renji nuzzled into it, kissing his palm. Byakuya leaned down and kissed Renji’s forehead. “Let’s have some oden. It will have grown cold by now.”

“You got me oden? The fuck? Why are we laying here?”

Byakuya chuckled. “Indeed.”

#

It took them a while to figure out how to sit on the bed together with the big bowl of oden between them. Renji insisted on putting away the new comforter first. “You know I’d only just get food all over it,” he explained.

“Ah, yes, one of your many charms,” Byakuya said dryly, handing over a pair of chopsticks. 

They sat cross-legged with their backs to the wall, the bowl carefully balanced on the mattress, buttressed by the spot where their knees touched. For Renji this felt more intimate than anything they’d done before: sitting together like this on his cramped cot, sharing a single bowl of oden.

Carefully undoing the lid, Byakuya glanced sideways at Renji. “I’m meant to tell you that your friends, Lieutenants Hisagi and Kira, wish to take you out drinking tonight.” Setting aside the lid on Renji’s footlocker a good distance from the haori, he lifted the bowl to his mouth. Scooping up few bites with his chopsticks, he added, “I think you should go. Your friends wish to show their support, and we may need allies soon. In fact,” Byakuya set the bowl down to say quite seriously, “Perhaps you should consider finding a way to tell them about us.”

“Uh…” Renji scratched the back of his neck. “They kind of already know.”

Byakuya coughed a little, as though he mis-swallowed the stew. “Oh?”

“Well, I mean, I kind of thought we were telling people?” The stern look Byakuya flashed him, as he handed over the bowl, made Renji wince and add, “No? Uh, oops?”

Byakuya shook his head in fond despair. “Well, that explains the look Lieutenant Hisagi gave me.”

“Yeah?” Renji smiled. Fishing out a fishcake, Renji gobbled it up. Broth dripped down his chin.

Byakuya tutted and reached for a paper napkin from the take-out bag. “Yes, in retrospect, the blanket may have given him the wrong impression.”

“You think Shūhei figured out your big plan to snuggle me up?” Renji teased, trading the soup for the napkin. 

“Perhaps he thought I would ravish you.”

“Heh,” Renji laughed, wiping his chin. He looked around for a place to stash the wadded up paper. Not finding any, he shoved it into the pocket of his hakama. “Should I tell him you did?”

Byakuya munched on a daikon. “Is that the sort of thing you normally share with your colleagues?”

The tone was teasing, but the question seemed serious, Renji thought. “Nah, I don’t kiss and tell. All Shū knows is that I’m getting you something for your birthday. Kira only knows because… uh, I was drunk once.”

“Once? Perhaps I should be grateful more of the Seireitei doesn’t already know,” Byakuya laughed, handing back the bowl. “Also, should I be concerned that you’re discussing my birthday present with your friends?”

“Probably,” Renji admitted, taking a slurp of the broth. 

They traded the soup back and forth several more times until there was almost nothing left. 

Byakuya offered the last of it to Renji with a sigh. “I suppose I should go,” he said. “I need to check on Daisuke and decide what’s to be done with him.”

“You have a plan?” Renji asked, trying not to lick the bowl.

“Not really,” Byakuya said, stretching his legs out. “He could stay and serve the estate, but I worry that we won’t be able to offer continual protection. There is so much… distraction here.”

Distraction? Yeah, like everything that was going to go down with Isoroku. “So you’re going to send him off?”

“I think it might be best. I have so many cousins here. One of them will need a manservant. We can get him out disguised or in a palanquin. Perhaps we can fool Shunsui.”

Or perhaps out of sight, out of mind. But, Byakuya was probably right. There was always too much happening here for them to remember to be watching Daisuke at all times. “You ever want to know what it is that Daisuke knows that Captain Kyōraku would kill for?” 

Byakuya raised a delicate, thin eyebrow skeptically. “I think it best we never know, Renji.”

“Heh, you’re probably right about that,” Renji agreed.

Byakuya reached for the kenseikan. “Plus, I have to finalize the marriage contract.”

Renji started. “Marriage?”

“Not mine,” Byakuya admonished. “Will you never trust that I’ve gone through great contortions to avoid remarriage?”

With a breath, Renji relaxed his shoulders. “Probably not.”

Byakuya clucked his tongue. Standing up, he worked the kenseikan into his hair. Renji watched, fascinated that Byakuya could arrange the complicated hairpiece without aid of mirror or comb. It must be centuries of practice. “I’ve arranged a contract between my cousin Hirako and the heir. It will solve a problem for her and for the family.”

Renji nodded, but he felt bad for Shinobu and the sweetheart he’d left behind. “I guess that’s just the way of nobles, eh?”

The kenseikan in place, Byakuya reached for the haori. “What is?”

“The arranging stuff,” Renji said with a shrug. “Shinobu made it sound like he had someone who might get their heart broke.”

“Ah,” Byakuya said, shouldering into the haori. “I’d not known. No matter. Hirako seems disinterested in the duties of a proper wife. Shinobu can have whomever he likes, I’d imagine. Or, perhaps they’ll dissolve the whole engagement before it comes to that.”

Renji just shook his head. And Byakuya wondered why Renji was always distrustful any time Byakuya mentioned marriage… why wouldn’t he be, with arrangements like this? “I’ll never understand you people.”

Tucking Senbonzakura in at his hip, Byakuya nodded. “That’s probably just as well.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Josey for her continual help and typo-checking. I'm still collecting ideas for a new series title. I'll probably be closing this one up soon. This chapter/installment didn't quite feel like "IT" yet, so... at any rate, I'll probably try to write ahead so I can add a link here at the end when I do go on to the next one.
> 
> Happy holidays to everyone celebrating one! And to those who don't, have a nice day!


End file.
